Eaten By The Tyrant I Raised

Chapter 5 – At One’s Touch

Before heading back, they replaced the wet handkerchief which had fallen on the floor. Thanks to that, Nabel and Ronée were able to keep their hands joined the whole way. Nabel stared alternately at their hands and Ronée’s face.

“You’re not hurt?”

Nabel nodded in response. The one she should really be worrying about was herself. Nabel’s lips pressed into a thin line. He did not hold hands with others. Nabel looked at Ronée’s hand again as he dwelled on that thought. He now disliked his own hand.

Just as the rest of his dead family had.

“It’s fine, isn’t it?”

A warm voice called out in Nabel’s head. He looked again at his hand clasped in Ronée’s. That was the source of the voice. The white light that only he could see twinkled again.

Nabel thought of many people. People who did not know the meaning of clasping the hand of another could have. Their heads were full of nothing but lies. Just lies and their disgusting inner desire. People who lived for nothing but their own gain.

 

But not Ronée.

Such a strange person.

Ronée, to whom prioritizing herself first did not come naturally, was a very strange person. That was why he could not stop thinking about it.

”Magic doesn’t work on me.”

That was what she had said… The scent of dried roses, matching her dusky pink hair, had come from the words which were whispered in his ear.

“Sit down here, my Lady.” As soon as they arrived in Ronée’s room, Ryne brought out a first-aid kit and cast her eyes over Ronée “Do you not have any burns?”

It was only the magic that did not work on her; she had still felt the fire’s heat. Ronée began to shake her head when Nabel, who had been staring continuously at Ronée’s hand, rolled up her sleeve.

“Ah.” Without even realizing it, Ronée had been concealing a red burn mark from below her hand. It was the instinct of someone who did not wish to show it when they get hurt.

The people from that household secretly rejoiced whenever she, who dared to reject the gods and not be affected by magic, was injured.

“Isn’t it just a punishment from the gods?” they would say. She detested their laughter. That was why she hid in front of others.

 

But there was no such need for it now. Ronée, who had started to pull her sleeve down, dropped her hand. “…Nabel.”

Nabel widened his eyes in surprise at her tone as she called his name. Ronée’s voice reverberated strangely in his ears. “You told me you were dangerous, right?”

Ryne said nothing and started to apply ointment on Ronée’s arm with a sad expression. Watching her, Ronée continued, “You’re not more dangerous than this place.”

At her words, Nabel clenched his fists unconsciously.

“Hey, let me take a look at you too.” After carefully checking Ronée’s whole body, Ryne turned her gaze on Nabel.

Nabel shook his head slightly in refusal, but Ryne was already fussing over his singed sleeves. “Burn scars don’t fade easily, you know. Hurry up.” Ryne took Nabel’s hand and started to lift it. The moment she touched him, Nabel recoiled from Ryne’s touch instinctively.

Smack!

“……!” Ryne was startled by his aggressive rejection.

“Ah!” Nabel appeared surprised too.

“She’s not going to hurt you, Nabel.” Nabel’s hard breathing settled at Ronée’s words. Her voice calling his name got stuck in his head strangely again.

“…I’m fine, thank you. I will say something if it hurts.” Nonetheless, he still rejected Ryne’s hand. He spoke far more politely than before. It was the same as accidentally treating someone who had done you some kindness roughly.

Perhaps she was able to tell that he was sorry from his softened tone, Ryne nodded her head. She thought nothing more of it than that it seemed like the young boy had been surprised.

“Fine,” Ryne replied to Nabel and bowed her head to Ronée. “I will bring you some fresh clothes right away, my Lady.”

“Thank you.”

Once Ryne had moved far away, Ronée turned to Nabel. Nabel was rubbing at the spot on his hand where he had bumped earlier after he had pulled away from Ryne’s hand.

“Do you dislike people touching your hands?” Ronée asked. It was the only explanation she could think of.

Nabel shook his head and stayed silent. Then he looked up at Ronée. “It’s a secret.”

…It could only be a secret.

Ronée turned away respectfully, but Nabel was not finished speaking yet.

“But I’ll tell you since it’s you.” Nabel took a step closer to her, who was sitting on a chair. He placed his hand lightly over hers.

“If I touch someone’s hand like this,” he said, his quiet voice reverberating, “I can hear the other person’s thoughts.”

What? Ronée, with her eyes wide, had not said a word. But Nabel smiled as though he had heard her.

“Your surprised, questioning voice. I can hear it. And the deeper the touch…” Nabel’s hand moved slightly from the back of Ronée’s hand to her palm. “The deeper the thoughts I can hear.”

Ronée’s lips parted. Nabel smiled at her surprise. “I’m only telling you. If anyone else finds out about this, someone will die.”

At that instant, Ronée’s shadow had darkened. Neither of them saw the pointy ears nor the defensively bristling tail that manifested there once again.

“Not you, but me.”

How could he kill his saviour? Nabel had enough enemies to know how to repay kindness.

He heard Ronée’s thought that she would absolutely keep his secret through her hand.

…I’m someone who holy magic doesn’t work on. There ought to be people with other abilities too, I suppose.

And her acceptance.

Wouldn’t an ability like reading thoughts be highly coveted by others?

And her worrying too.

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“…Why are you telling me something that’s dangerous to know?”

“Because I know that you truly trust me,” Nabel responded. He paused for a moment and then continued quietly, “Because I wanted to tell you a secret that you could hold over me.”

So that if by any chance, I ever betray you, you can wield it over me.

That was Nabel’s vow that shackled himself: though such a time may never come, to never betray Ronée, who had been kind to him.

“Ah…?” Ronée’s eyes widened while Nabel smiled. Their hands met once more. Ronée did not know it, but her hand was the first hand Nabel had ever held on his own free will in his life.